Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

convergent books

A book I wish no one had to write: Review of Rare Bird by Anna Whiston-Donaldson

rare birdRare Bird is the kind of book I usually try to avoid. Books are an escape for me, and stories of tragedy are ones I don’t often want to consider because they’re just too hard to read.

How incredibly selfish of me. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher through the Blogging for Books program.)

While I wish no one ever needed to read this kind of book much less write it, I’m so grateful that Anna Whiston-Donaldson poured out her grief journey on the pages of this book. Losing her son Jack at 12 years old in a freak neighborhood accident–unthinkable. I related to her thoughts about doing enough right things to keep her family safe and feeling like a failure when it wasn’t enough. Whiston-Donaldson is real and raw about the stages of grief, about unexpected losses of friendship after a tragedy, and how hard it can be to go on. And yet, her story is inspiring. It does not gloss over the reality of pain and suffering, but it doesn’t leave it as hopeless either.

This book made me cry real tears for a boy I never knew. I laughed at family stories so vivid I felt like I was there. And I felt the edges of terror creep into my soul as the depths of grief sought to overtake this family. A couple of times I even uttered, “no way,” at the visions, dreams and messages she received about Jack after his death. (I am not one to quickly believe in messages from beyond, but I also haven’t experienced that kind of loss yet, so what do I know?)

Rare Bird is a beautiful story. And a terrible one. And I’m not sure I’ve ever read a book quite like it. You don’t have to have experienced loss to read this book but if you have had a loss like hers, it’s a must read. Whiston-Donaldson’s words are tender and poetic at the same time they’re jarring and harsh. It’s a glimpse into grief that few of us see firsthand.

A word of caution to those sensitive to language: Whiston-Donaldson uses words that some people might find offensive. But in the context of grief and loss, they are entirely appropriate.

An unforgettable memoir about an unimaginable tragedy and an incomprehensible faith that sustains.

When it is (and isn't) the end of the world: Review of Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther

I was raised in a homegrown, fundamentalist Christian group–which is just a shorthand way of saying I’m classically trained in apocalypse stockpiling, street preaching, and the King James Version of the Bible. I know hundreds of obscure nineteenth-century hymns by heart and have such razor-sharp ‘modesty vision’ that I can spot a miniskirt a mile away.

Verily, verily I say unto the, none of these highly specialized skills ever got me a job, but at least I’m all set for the End of the World. Selah.

girl at end of worldThis is how Elizabeth Esther describes her upbringing in her memoir Girl at the End of the World. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book through Waterbrook Multnomah’s Blogging for Books program in exchange for my review.) It’s a sardonic summary of her early life, and the truth is: it was much worse than that.

Girl at the End of the World is a raw and gritty account of the cult known as The Assembly that Elizabeth was raised in, and the painful path she took to freedom from a strict fundamentalist upbringing, which included daily spankings and confession of sins real and imagined. She asked Jesus into her heart thousands of times and lived in fear of being “left behind” when the Rapture occurred.

I have never been in a cult nor experienced the level of brainwashing and strict morality the author describes, but it wasn’t hard to identify with aspects of the book. To me, it was a warning against an atmosphere of control and conformity under the pretense of unity. And it’s an honest picture of brokenness, healing, forgiveness and grace. Elizabeth’s pain is real, and I found myself aching with her losses and cheering for her freedom.

I appreciate, too, that this is not an all’s-well-that-ends-well kind of story. She is honest about her recovery and the struggles she still has with the thoughts and experiences that shaped her upbringing. Still, there is hope. Girl at the End of the World might not make you feel good but it will remind you that God’s grace is extravagant and His love is big and some people misuse His name and the Bible but God is still leading people to walk in freedom with Him.

If you’re unsure about the book, you can read Chapter One here. There is mild use of language that some might find offensive, and I only tell you that so you aren’t surprised if you do read it. It does not take away from the overall value of the story.

To learn more about the author, you can visit her website, find her on Facebook or connect with her on Twitter.